Friday, March 29, 2013
Good Friday has never seemed like a fitting name to me. I get what is good about the crucifixion: God taking on my sin so I can be redeemed; having the Savior seek a relationship with me by walking this Earth in perfection and dying for me; the Resurrection to come and much more. I get it. Good Friday as a title is still a hard sale for me though. What about “Mixed Emotions Friday” or “Kind of Crushing but I Know it’s Okay” Friday?
Good Friday tends to wreck me. I can’t explain it better than that. I function, but I feel completely wrecked and ready to cry and just achy all over.
This year, we're waiting until we arrive in Athens to cover the crucifixion with the kids. We made three crosses out of twigs and string this morning and plan to set them up in the backyard at my grandmother's house and read about what Jesus did for us and why He did it and what it means. The kids are familiar with this story; Dennis and I have heard it a million times, but it never gets old. It’s never less amazing. I think for me it might actually get sadder and more incredible every year.
I usually fast on Good Friday, but fasting from all food while carrying two kids in utero would lead to me passing out. This year I am fasting from certain types of sugar (fruit is okay, cupcakes are not for today).
Anything we do is such a small sacrifice. The ultimate sacrifice has been made and my debt paid. For that, it is a Good Friday.